


Come a Little Undone

by FagurFiskur



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Bottom Dean, Bottoming from the Top, Drunk Sex, First Kiss, First Time, M/M, Massage, Rimming, Teacher Castiel, Teacher Dean, Top Cas
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-06-21
Updated: 2014-06-21
Packaged: 2018-02-05 14:34:12
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,310
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1821937
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FagurFiskur/pseuds/FagurFiskur
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Well?" Cas prompted, turning his face to the side to look up at Dean. "Are you going to get started?"</p><p>Something about the annoyed tone in Cas' voice, as if he were the one doing Dean a favor and not the other way around, pissed Dean off enough so that his better judgment took the backseat for just a moment. Unfortunately, that moment was long enough so that by the time it ended, Dean was already straddling Cas' thighs.<br/> </p><p>/ Written for this prompt: Cas and Dean are teachers. It's the end of the year. Cas is stressed out with grading. How does Dean help?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Come a Little Undone

**Author's Note:**

  * For [ANobleCompanion](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ANobleCompanion/gifts).



> So four days ago ANobleCompanion made this prompt: Cas and Dean are teachers. It's the end of the year. Cas is stressed out with grading. How does Dean help?
> 
> And it was just supposed to be a short drabble but it kind of got out of control? The first half fills the prompt but then I wanted to write smut, so I just kept going. It turned out unexpectedly filthy (might be the filthiest thing I've ever written? Which is admittedly not saying much), so sorry about that.
> 
> Title taken from Supernatural by Ke$ha

There was something domestic about grading papers with Cas on their living room table. It made Dean feel less like they were roommates, and more like they were a couple. An old, married couple, and Dean was pretty sure that thought should have scared the shit out of him, but all it did was make him feel warm.

That was, until reality hit him like a bucket of iced water as he remembered that he and Cas weren't an old married couple, or any kind of couple at all. That his pathetic, eight year old unrequited crush was still unrequited. But still, sitting next to Cas while they worked was nice. Feeling Cas' feet bump with his under the table, hearing him occasionally mutter under his breath, it made Dean feel relaxed and helped him concentrate. So much so that he didn't even realize the time until he happened to glance at the clock.

"It's past midnight, Cas," he said. "We should probably be getting to bed."

"I'll be right there," Cas said, not looking up from the paper he was currently grading.

"Dude, you can finish this tomorrow."

Cas frowned but he still didn't look up. "I just want to finish this paper."

Dean knew when he was beat, so he got up and put his own paperwork away. As he shuffled around the apartment preparing for bed, he spotted Cas a couple of times still by the living room table, peering down at the paper in front of him as if by staring at it hard enough, he could make it grade itself.

"Goodnight, Cas," Dean said pointedly.

Cas grunted in reply. Dean rolled his eyes and went to bed.

Some two hours later, according to the alarm clock on his night stand, he woke up with an uncomfortably full bladder. Groaning, Dean rolled out of bed, not bothering to put anything on besides the boxers he'd been sleeping in. He seriously doubted Cas would still be up, and there was no harm parading around the apartment half-naked when there was no one there to see it.

Except Cas still was up. Still sitting, as far as Dean could tell, in the exact same position he'd been in when Dean went to bed. That couldn't be comfortable for his back. His hair was sticking up every which way, probably from Cas running his hands through it. Dean had always liked the way Cas looked with his hair all messy but paired with his blood-shot eyes and the bags underneath them, it just made him look all the more worn down.

"Cas?" Dean mumbled groggily. "Y'still grading papers, man?"

"Just finishing up this one," Cas said.

Dean approached the living room table, all modesty forgotten and replaced by worry. "That's what you said two hours ago."

Finally, Cas looked up, peering suspiciously at the clock. "It hasn't been two hours."

"It has," Dean argued. "You can't do this to yourself. You need to get some sleep."

"I've got coffee," Cas said, pointing at his mug on the table. "I don't need sleep."

Dean grabbed the mug, which was half-full with cold coffee, strolled with it to the kitchen and dumped it in the kitchen sink. "You're a grown-ass man, Cas. Maybe you could pull off the all-nighters back in college, but you can't now and you shouldn't try it. You're gonna give yourself an ulcer."

"I am twenty-seven years old."

"Yeah, well, the ulcer's not gonna care about that. It's just gonna care that you've been in a constant state of stress for a week, you're getting next to no sleep and pumping your body full of caffeine." Dean grabbed Cas' hand and pulled him off the couch, ignoring his half-hearted protests. "Are you gonna go to bed?"

"I probably won't be able to sleep anyway," Cas said sullenly. "My back is killing me."

"Not helping your case," Dean said. "Come on, get undressed and get on your bed. I'm gonna go take a piss, then I'll give you a quick massage, help relax you."

It was something he'd used to do almost frequently back when they were in college. Back then, Dean had been looking for any excuse to get his hands on Cas without letting his friend know how pathetically gone for him he was. Eventually, he'd come to realize that touching Cas that way without being able to go further was more pain than it was worth, so he'd stopped doing it unless Cas specifically asked for it himself.

He hadn't done it in a couple of years, though, and suddenly it occurred to him that maybe doing it right now, with him in his underwear and Cas in his bed all tired and pliant, the two of them all alone in the apartment... it might be more temptation than Dean could resists. But then again, he'd been resisting it for eight years now.

Besides, Cas was in pain. Dean wasn't going to let him suffer when he could do something to help him, just because he wanted to spare himself an awkward boner.

Cas trudged to his bedroom, grumbling under his breath. The fact that he was willingly going along with Dean's orders showed just how exhausted he really was. Dean went to the bathroom and emptied out his bladder, trying not to think about Cas getting undressed just two rooms over.

When he got back from the bathroom, Cas was standing by his bed, head stuck in his shirt.

"Need a little help there buddy?"

Cas said something muffled by the shirt - Dean thought it might be 'screw you' but he wasn't too sure - but he managed to get it off by himself and finish undressing. Dean averted his gaze as Cas bent over to remove his pants. 

Finally, Cas finished his sleepy little strip-show and got on his bed, lying on his stomach. Dean approached the bed slowly, unsure of how to do this. The easiest way to get good access would be to straddle Cas, but he wasn't sure he could handle that much touching. Maybe he should just stand next to the bed like a masseuse?

"Well?" Cas prompted, turning his face to the side to look up at Dean. "Are you going to get started?"

Something about the annoyed tone in Cas' voice, as if he were the one doing Dean a favor and not the other way around, pissed Dean off enough so that his better judgment took the backseat for just a moment. Unfortunately, that moment was long enough so that by the time it ended, Dean was already straddling Cas' thighs.

With a deep, fortifying breath, Dean started rubbing Cas' shoulders, trying to work out where the kinks were. He just needed to stay focused on the task at hand, ignore who the miles of naked skin stretched underneath him really belonged to. It was surprisingly easy, losing himself in the movements, concentrating entirely on where to press and how hard.

Until Cas started groaning.

It was just one, low sound at first. Dean paused. It wasn't that he was afraid of hurting Cas - Cas would have no difficulty letting Dean know if that were the case. No, it was that he _knew_ he wasn't. Which could only mean that Cas had been groaning in pleasure.

"Why are you stopping?"

Cas' muffled voice shook Dean out of his revere and he continued his movements. When Cas groaned again, Dean ignored it and started slowly working his way down Cas' back. It was at this point that Cas started groaning pretty much continuously, which was harder to ignore.

And speaking of harder... Dean snorted at his own cheap joke and raised himself higher on his knees, so that he was no longer touching Cas. At least he could laugh through his pain.

Dean kept rubbing down Cas' back for the next fifteen minutes. His legs were beginning to shake a bit from the effort of staying crouched like this but not resting - give him a break, he'd just woken up - and he realized that leaving the room might get kind of awkward, if Cas should happen to turn around and spot the obvious bulge in Dean's boxers. Why hadn't he put on some clothes?

The only solution was to keep massaging until Cas fell asleep, which luckily didn't seem to be too far off. He was hardly making any sounds anymore, and his breathing had gotten deeper. Five minutes later, Dean deemed the situation safe, and started climbing off of Cas.

But then, just as his feet touched the ground, Cas' hand shot out and grabbed Dean's arm. Dean's heart nearly leapt out of his chest and he opened his mouth, apology or explanation at the tip of his tongue, until he noticed that Cas' eyes were closed.

"Thanks," he mumbled, voice thick with sleep.

"No problem," Dean said.

He held his breath for a few moments but Cas didn't say anything else, nor did his eyes open. Dean carefully pried Cas' hand from his arm and then tip-toed back to his own bedroom.

\---

Dean kept a vigilant eye on Cas for the next few days, making sure he got enough sleep and that he ate regularly. Eventually, Cas snapped at him to quit his hovering, he was a grown man and fully capable of taking care of himself. Dean wasn't so sure about that - at least not during marking period - but he backed off anyway.

He buried himself in work instead, grading test after test, until all he could see when he closed his eyes were numbers. It was like college all over again, only he was the one wielding the red pen. It was a wonder he hadn't gone on a power trip already.

Finally at long last, the end of the school year arrived. Dean dragged Cas out for drinks at The Roadhouse in celebration. They met up with some colleagues there; Benny, a home ec teacher who made amazing gumbo, Charlie, the computer science teacher who was far too good at her job to be teaching at a public high school, and Anna, a biology teacher Dean had subjected to many a terrible biology-based pick-up line through the years (not that she didn't give as good as she got).

It was a good group of people to go out drinking with but as always, Dean seemed to gravitate more and more towards Cas as the evening wore on and the empty beer bottles stacked up. Cas for his part didn't seem to mind and aside from one knowing glance from Charlie, none of the rest of them noticed.

Around midnight Benny and Charlie left, leaning into each other for support, and if Dean didn't know for a fact that Charlie was gay and Benny engaged to a gorgeous Greek chick, he would have figured they were going home together.

Anna stayed for a little while. Dean bought her a couple of drinks and they flirted, but even then, Dean couldn't seem to tear himself from Cas' side. Cas stayed quiet and held onto his beer bottle like it was a shield. It wasn't until Anna bid goodbye and left that Dean noticed all the extra bottles around them and realized that Cas had drank all of them by himself.

"Dude," Dean laughed, "how are you still standing?"

Instead of answering, Cas grabbed him by the front of his shirt and pulled him in for a rough, sloppy kiss. Dean raised his hand and clenched it in thin air, unsure of where to put it, whether to push Cas away and demand an explanation or pull him closer.

Before he could make up his mind, Cas broke the kiss. "I thought she'd never leave."

His voice was rough and breathy, the sound of it causing heat to pool low in Dean's gut. But he couldn't allow himself to be distracted by his libido, not when he needed to make sense of the situation. Cas was drunk, that much was clear, but was he doing this because he was drunk? Was it an impulse decision, or had he been wanting to do this for a while?

Dean opened his mouth to ask, but then Cas' hand was on his thigh and squeezing tightly, and all that came out was a whimper.

"We should go home," Cas said, leaning so close to Dean that Dean could feel the breath hit his lips when he spoke. "There are things I want to do to you that I can't do in public."

"Hngh," Dean said, intelligently.

Cas kissed him again and this time, Dean had the presence of mind to kiss him back. He opened his mouth and their tongues tangled together, all heat and no finesse. Cas' hand was still on his thigh and Dean could feel his dick perk up, a belated reaction caused by all the alcohol he'd consumed earlier.

The explanations could wait. Right now, they needed to get home.

They walked home. It was only a few blocks but it was a miracle they made it even that far, considering that they were both pretty drunk - Dean hadn't realized how much he himself had drunk either, until he stood up and felt it all rush to his head - and that they kept pushing each other against any flat, vertical surface to make out some more.

Finally, they stumbled into their apartment, already tearing off their jackets before the door had even closed. As soon as Dean had his shoes off, he pushed Cas down on the couch and got on top of him, straddling his lap. Cas immediately turned his attention to his neck, biting softly on the skin just beneath his jaw.

"Cas," Dean muttered heatedly. "I want - want to ride you."

Cas groaned against his neck, hips twitching up involuntarily so his dick bumped against Dean's ass. "Yes," he panted. "Yes, _please_."

He stood up so quick, Dean almost fell onto the floor, just barely managing to get his feet underneath him in time. Before he could snap at Cas to be more careful, Cas was pulling him towards his bedroom. The same bedroom where Dean had given him that massage, just over a week ago.

"Remember last week?" Cas asked, clearly thinking about the same thing. He tugged at Dean's shirt and helped him pull it over his head. "That was when I knew."

"Knew what?"

Cas smiled and nosed at his neck. "That you still had feelings for me."

Dean's head was spinning from the alcohol and from Cas standing so close, touching him all over, so it took a moment for the words to register. "Wait, what?"

"You used to offer to massage me all the time in college," Cas said. "It took me a while to understand why, but I did eventually."

The words, Cas' admission that he'd known about Dean's crush on him, would have caused Dean to panic even an hour ago. But not now, not right he had Cas kissing his neck, could feel Cas' hard-on pressing against his thigh. 

"I didn't think of you that way," Cas continued. "Not back then. When you stopped offering to touch me, I figured you had moved on. I was relieved."

"Hey," Dean muttered in half-hearted indignation. 

"I don't know what changed or when. All I know is that two years ago, I looked at you from across the breakfast table and realized that I was in love with you."

It was like all the breath had been sucked out of Dean's lungs. He could feel his heart beating harder, could feel the tears suddenly prickling at the corners of his eyes, could feel the words against his tongue, wanting to get out and tell Cas that it wasn't just him, he'd been in love with Cas since before he could remember.

But the words wouldn't come out. He'd been holding them back for too long, refusing to acknowledge them.

"Get on the bed," he said instead, his voice shaky. 

Cas stared at him for a long moment, and then nodded. He didn't look disappointed or hurt, like Dean hadn't just completely dismissed his big declaration of love. He'd always seen through the bullshit with  Dean, and maybe he did now, too. Dean hoped so.

They both climbed onto the bed and Cas reached into his night stand for condoms and lube. Dean wanted to crack some joke about him having prepared for this to ease the tension, but then Cas was pulling Dean on top of him with a hand on his ass. Dean followed his direction, straddling him again and the familiar scene sent a bolt of lust through him.

Cas popped the bottle of lube open and drenched his fingers in it so it ran down Dean's inner thighs when Cas pressed his fingers inside him, two right off the bat. It would have been painful if Dean weren't so relaxed from the alcohol. As it was, it burned slightly, but that just added a sharper edge to the pleasure, and Dean drove himself down on Cas' fingers eagerly.

Cas made a quick work of prepping him, adding another finger almost too soon. He thrust them inside Dean, seeking out his prostate. Dean let out a strangled moan when he did, and suddenly he was burning to have Cas' dick inside him, right the fuck now, so he batted Cas' hand away.

He position himself over Cas and grabbed his cock, guiding it inside himself. Then he sank down slowly, relishing every thick inch of it, until he had bottomed out. Cas was gripping his hips tightly, panting and hands shaking with the effort to stay still.

Dean lifted up, a couple of inches before dropping again. He moved slowly and deliberately, eyes locking with Cas', silently egging him on. Daring him to move, to take control and fuck Dean the way he's clearly dying to.

And Cas didn't disappoint. His grip tightened even further on Dean's hips and then he was thrusting, hard and fast. Dean lurched forward and he automatically braced himself by grabbing Cas' shoulders. He moved to meet Cas' powerful thrusts, moaning when Cas hit his prostate.

"Right there," he managed. "Fuck, so good Cas."

"Dean," Cas whimpered, "D-dean, I'm gonna-"

"Yeah?" Dean squeezed around Cas' dick, delighting when his hips stuttered. "Go on, Cas, wanna see you."

Cas' thrust became smaller, uncoordinated, and then his mouth fell open and he was coming with a loud groan. Just the sight of it was nearly enough to send Dean over the edge. He gripped his cock and leaned down to kiss Cas while he pumped it.

Then everything was spinning, as Cas rolled them around until he was on top, cock popping free from Dean's hole so fast it almost hurt. He scooted down and leaned over, so that he was level with Dean's pelvis.

"What are you-" Dean mumbled but he didn't get any further, because then Cas was pulling his cheeks apart and licking over his hole. "Oh, _fuck_."

Cas licked a few, broad strokes, and then he speared his tongue and thrust it inside Dean's hole, fucking it like he'd done with his dick just moments ago. Dean's head fell back against the pillow and he keened, hips pumping to meet Cas' tongue. He grabbed his dick again and it only took a couple of strokes before he was coming, spurting all over his stomach. Cas kept licking him through his orgasm, until Dean became over sensitized and pushed him away.

Dean relaxed against the mattress, too tired to even think about getting a towel to clean himself up. He’d regret it in the morning, he knew, but then Cas was stretching out beside him, hand resting on his waist, and he couldn't find it in himself to care. 


End file.
